Her, Amid The Slytherins
by Demeter1
Summary: Belonging to Slytherin does not automatically make an innocent child evil. Black and white are only two colors... and Pansy Parkinson is all the shades of gray. Part Three: Time Will Tell
1. Sheer Fate

Title: "Sheer Fate"

Author: Demeter

Warnings: Slytherin POV's. Angst. Dark. Pansy-sympathetic. 

Thanks to Zebee for betaing this!

Disclaimer: All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are trademarks and property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. No money is being made and copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The original story and characters and relationships within the fic are copyright of Demeter.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"…Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

The cheers that had broken out at her table were deafening, triumphant. Pansy grinned as she and Millicent exchanged hugs, each smug about the fact that Slytherin had finally beaten Gryffindor at their own game. Now the little bastards wouldn't be able to smirk so much about their so-called popularity and likeability within the school. In the end, it didn't matter did it? 

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account."

Pansy's head shot up. The cheering had subsided, but she felt a drop of icy dread well up in her. He wouldn't. He couldn't. They had gotten those points and they had won the House Cup, fair and square, and it didn't matter squat that Harry bloody Potter had once again, saved them all from the 'evil'. 

 "Ahem. I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes… First – to Mr. Ronald Weasley for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

And with those words, Pansy knew. She knew that Gryffindor would win. Dully, she wondered why they had even bothered to hang up the green and silver banners that had told everyone present that the Slytherins had won. They should have just created the illusion and in the end, yank the idea of Slytherin _ever_ winning by pulling the literal rug from their feet. 

"Second – to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Millicent had faded to sickening color of white and now her hands were clenched below the stone table, scrabbling to find a hold on reality as the points seemed to come from an abyss of irrational logic.  

"Third – to Mr. Harry Potter for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."

The screaming and cheering seemed to go on and on to Pansy's frozen ears. She had known. She had seen how much Dumbledore seemed to favor the Gryffindors. But they had won. Slytherin had _won_! Fair and square! Fuck the Gryffindors for running out late during the middle of the night! Calculating in her head, she realized that they were tied. This was almost as bad as losing to them. Knowing that even though they should be the winner clear, the Gryffindors had to sully their victory. 

Then she noticed Dumbledore signaling for silence. 

"No… please." Her voice was barely above a whisper in her pleading. Dumbledore had one last chance to redeem himself. He would, right?

"There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

And there it was. 

Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, they had all started cheering wildly, shrieking congratulations as Neville-the-almost-squib disappeared underneath a pile of flailing arms and legs, having won the deciding points in the House cup. 

"Which means we need a little change of decoration."

Pansy couldn't have felt sicker if he had just said "Gryffindors rule! Slytherins drool". He had already proven that by changing the banners from their proud green and silver into blazing testaments to Gryffindor superiority. Draco must have felt the same way because he looked as if someone had cast a Body-Bind Curse on him. His gray eyes had narrowed nearly into slits and she knew that it was only the calm before the proverbial storm.

Shaking her blonde head, she exchanged horrified looks with Millicent and the two traded hundreds of expletives in as many languages as they could think of in their unsettled states, before slumping back into their seats in desolate defeat. 

Defeat that had come with the victory of Gryffindor.

Pansy could only seethe quietly along with the rest of the Slytherins. Their eyes had all turned toward the table full of Professors, each student disbelieving what Dumbledore had just said. Pansy searched the eyes of who they had thought would be absolutely fair and only saw a shining happiness in seeing – _she shuddered_ – the Gryffindors celebrating so enthusiastically. 

Professor Snape had a look of resignation on his lined face and what seemed like regret shadowed the crevasses. He stood and amid the revelry, he was hardly missed from the staff table. Sliding over to the Slytherins, he fielded questions and accusations with half-answers and perfected denials. 

When the seventh year prefect demanded to know why Gryffindors had won, bitter betrayal glimmering in her eyes, he cast a sigh at his Slytherin table. At that, they all exploded into angry and knowing whispers.

"Professor, that's so unfair!" 

"How could he do that?"

"He can't, can he?"

"Biased, that's what it was!"

"Can't you do anything?"

Snape shook his head. The movement was impersonal, but Pansy could only stare at the red and yellow banners that declared that Gryffindor had won, a wave of nausea assailing her senses. Again. Her throat choked up and she felt like retching. How could the Headmaster display such blatant favoritism… right at the closing ceremony at that!

She wanted to stand and scream but a swift hand checked her hasty movement. Looking down, through a haze of blinding fury, she saw Draco shake his silver head delicately. There was a look of loathing on his pale face, but all he did was take his pointed hat off and toss it onto the table. Sighing, he stood and motioned. He bowed once to Professor Snape and then walked out of the Great Hall, his manner oddly formal. 

Pansy continued to shake with the injustice… but she knew when it was futile. Taking off her own hat, she held the velvety blackness tightly for one moment before throwing it down on the Slytherins table. With nary a glance to the Professors, she went after Draco and soon, the entire contingent of Slytherins had followed with varying degrees of stiffening bows and haughty glances. 

She was now moving through the gloomy halls, feeling her legs numbing under the fact that the Slytherins, that _she_failed at winning the House Cup. The winning streak they had had for seven years had come undone during _their_ year, going to Gryffindor, going to Harry _Potter_. 

Inwardly, shrieking and swearing of every degree was there; outwardly no expression had managed to make itself onto her frozen face. Pansy had figured, yes, perhaps the teachers would treat Harry Potter a bit better than everyone else… but certainly, they _should_ have stayed absolutely fair. 

The whole troop of silent Slytherins had managed to make it to the Slytherin Common room. Once there, the bitter words lashed out. Of course, the only ones who were truly angry were the second and first years. The older ones only sighed wearily and said nothing except to object to any threats that would have caused bodily harm on a Gryffindor. 

A sixth year finally stood up, her strained voice elegant, cultured, but firm. "I understand that there is dissension on why and how Dumbledore awarded the House Cup to the Gryffindors. But, in the end, it was the Headmaster's choice and his choice only. We _will_ accept it like Slytherins and move on to the goal for next year. Is that understood?"

With barely acknowledged nods, everyone unenthusiastically agreed. There would be a couple more days of school left and they would have to endure the smirking glances of the Ravenclaws, the pitying looks of the Hufflepuff, and grounding her teeth together, the superior grins of those smarmy Gryffindors. 

Dragging her feet toward her dorm, she absently noted that Millicent, Leda, and Sylvie were following her silently. With a shared glance, they all collapsed together on Pansy's bed, trying to comfort each other while sinking into a stupor over their own pain. 

"Bloody unfair."

"Bullocks to Dumbledore anyway."

"They all favor those Gryffindor prats."

"Quiet." 

The other three did indeed 'quiet' at Pansy's commanding tone. They knew when she was just being snippy, but this was real, intense anger. They knew when to argue and when to just lie together, waiting for the appropriate moment. 

Millicent glanced at Pansy and she nudged Sylvie. The dark-haired Slytherin looked up from her staring contest with the bed drapes and cast an irritated glare at Millicent. Unfazed, she motioned toward Pansy and Sylvie turned to observe the blonde girl. 

Pansy's eyes were forbidding, dark, intensely lost in their own world. But there was bitter disappointment, sulking hatred, and… a little girl lost, thrown into a chaotic mess of events that had worked their best in decimating her nerves. 

"Pansy?"

"What?" Was the muffled answer. 

"You alright?" Leda asked boldly, ignoring the usual Slytherin custom of skirting around the question until the person actually wanted to answer their unvoiced worries. 

"No."

"It's alright." Millicent clasped a hand on Pansy's shoulder and she whispered, "We'll win next year and then we'll show them what Slytherins are really made of!"

"We're not going to win!"

Millicent hastily removed her hand in horror. The three girls could only stare at Pansy as unshed tears glimmered in the blue eyes. Her chin was quivering, as if she wanted to sob and weep but couldn't. For a strange, absolute moment, Millicent felt she could relate. 

"Don't you see? We're not going to win. Never ever again. Harry Potter and Harry Potter and Harry Potter! Gryffindors are going to win the house cup as long as he's here! It won't matter how hard we work or how fair we play; we're always going to lose to _them_!" Her breathing was ragged and she seemed as close to tears as she had ever been.

Which was never.

"C'mon Pansy… I'm sure if we win the games next year and all that we'll triumph… right?"

"Don't you see? That Potter's better in quidditch then we are? And the teachers all reward *them* points instead of us! The only teacher who's partial to us is Professor Snape! He can't beat the whole school! Not with Dumbledore and McGonagall behind them!" She now shook with rage, her knuckles whitening as they clutched the coverlet. 

Leda shook her head emphatically. "No! That's not true! Dumbledore's fair! He's always been fair! We've won the last few years! That has to mean something!"

An ugly laugh clawed itself out of Pansy's mouth. "Right. It means that Harry bloody Potter wasn't in Hogwarts then." Millicent swallowed and her mind flew backwards, in desperate search for something, anything that could allay their fears and confirm their hopes. 

_"Gryffindor is certainly the best houses."_

_"It's a pity that Slytherin house is still part of the sorting."_

_"Slytherins are all an evil lot!"_

_"There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin…"_

_"Better Hufflepuff then Slytherin._

_""Slytherins are an unpleasant looking lot."_

With a sinking heart, she once again tried to croak out protests… and once more, she felt perilously close to tears. Millicent turned swiftly away; it would do no good to be seen crying. No good at all. Slytherins didn't cry. Never. 

"You see?"

Leda and Sylvie had gone quiet and both were looking everywhere but at each other or Pansy and Millicent. 

Pansy wiped her eyes and then stood defiantly. "I don't care what I have to do. Next year. Next year, I'll make sure those blasted Gryffindors get what they deserve," she declared with her usual haughty air. There was steely determination and a desperate hope that was overwhelming with burgeoning fear. 

Millicent nodded dully. This was speech they had drilled themselves on. Lemons wouldn't turn to lemonade without a bit of work. 

Leda and Sylvie sighed before murmuring that they still wanted to do a bit of browsing in the library before going to bed. Pansy waved them off with barely a look and they trooped downstairs, the resilient bounce back in their steps. 

Pansy flopped back down onto the soft bed. She and Millicent lay together in companionable silence for the longest time. 

"You know, Millicent? I had always thought that once I came to Hogwarts, things would be different." Her voice lacked its usual hard edge. This time, the tones were wistful, wondering, and child-like. 

"Me too."

"Dreams?"

"Hopes."

"I had aspirations."

"Yearnings."

"The day I could fly out as a fully-licensed witch."

"When I would be able to walk into a room without people laughing at my looks."

"To know that I could be proud of myself."

"To always be able to look forward and not backwards."

Pansy laughed suddenly, the chimes in her voice echoing girlishly. "We're both big dreamers, Millicent. So are Leda and Sylvie and Draco and Vincent and Greg and… all the Slytherins. Those Gryffindors also… but you know the difference between us and them?"

"What?" Even though Millicent knew very well the difference. 

"That."

"The big one?"

"The difference between us is that we're Slytherins and they're Gryffindors."

"And that's all the world."

"Because… no matter how hard we work, we'll always be Slytherins. Always. No matter what."

The two turned toward each other. They had been friends since they were babes, perhaps even before that. They trusted each other and it was no wonder; in Slytherin you had to make and claim your place before you were swept into oblivion. 

Millicent suddenly held up her pinkie. "Remember when we were little and we promised each other that no matter what, we would always be friends, forever and ever?"

Pansy nodded and she stuck out her own pinkie and together, they were linked in that age-old vow of friendship. "No matter what, we'll always be friends."

"To the end."

"Even if the nasty Gryffindors do win for the next six years."

Bursting into giggles, the two sat up and started packing their trunks. There would be the test results, the leaving of school, the endless mocking laughter… but they could ignore that. They always had before. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Pansy moved down the row amid the crowd of first year students, murmuring her scores to herself. She had done well; not beating Granger but she had managed to rank in with all ninety and above percents. She noticed that all the other Slytherins had also committed to being in the upper scores… but just enough to leave them out of being the top runner. 

She smiled at seeing Draco's scores. Of all the Slytherins, he had done best. She wasn't too surprised; she had met his father so many times after all. Of course, there was also the fact that the Slytherins made pacts that except for a few, they would all purposely score lower so that they could stay out of the spotlight. No one wanted the ministry breathing down his or her backs. 

And of course, the muggle-witch, Granger was the highest. Snorting, Pansy yanked a hand through her curly blonde hair with exasperation. Walking over to a conversing group of Slytherins, she poked herself in. They were comparing scores and talking with proud notes in their voices. 

"Hermione, you got the top scores!" Great. That annoying prat, Ron Weasley, was insisting on vocalizing the mudblood's every single score. Without turning around, Pansy managed a roll of her eyes, seen only by her classmates. They snickered in appreciation, nodding knowingly of why she had done that. Brains were to be appreciated… but not to be glorified. 

"What? Little ickle Slytherins couldn't even beat us in test scores?" The taunt was thrown out by Seamus Finnegan, his smirk echoing that of every Gryffindor who had come to see their test scores. 

Pansy stiffened and she turned slowly around, ignoring the fact that she was about two inches shorter than him. A wrathful comment was ready on her lips when she heard, rather than saw, Millicent burst out first. "As if Gryffindors like you could appreciate subtlety!"

"Subtlety? More like plain dunderheads!" Ron said, his voice sneering. 

Greg went still ever so slightly and Pansy knew that Ron had hit a tender spot. Greg and Vincent knew better than anyone that they weren't the smartest kids in the world. That's why they hung out with Draco. He coached them in most of their subjects and with the younger Malfoy's help, they managed to make the most of their subjects. 

Pansy rang out in defense of Gregory and Vincent (she rather liked them) and in a shrill voice, she cried, "Stupid gits! You think you're so brilliant because you got higher scores? Wait until someone wants to kill you because you're smarter!" 

Hermione paled and Ron rose, his face livid. "Is that a threat, pug-face?"

Pansy hesitated. She hadn't meant to make her words sound so menacing. But they were out; the dice was thrown, the odds determined. Lashing forward, she mocked, "Wouldn't you like to know? I bet if you had some brains, you could make some money for your pack of rats!"

Ron roared and he would have ran forward to tackle her – girl or no girl – when Harry stopped him by pulling him by the waist. "Ron! Stop! We'll get into trouble with Snape!"

In the halls now, it was Slytherins versus Gryffindor… with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw closely behind, ready to support the 'golden house'. Pansy wanted to shriek with the unfairness of it all; why did Slytherin always end up alone, forced to fight everyone else? 

With a grim snarl, she tamped down all her quaking feelings of inadequacy that came whenever other people teased her. 

Ron, unable to escape Harry, finally hollered, "You're all evil like You-Know-Who anyway! Why they don't just kick you all out and kill you is bloody insane!"

There. 

He had blurted out dreadful, horrible, decaying words that even he looked surprised to hear coming from his lips. The Slytherins, mostly, had frozen with shock in being connected with the dreaded euphemism. 

There were a few who smirked quietly; Voldemort was a household name in their homes. But Pansy felt herself quiver with the sudden coldness that had swept over her. It wouldn't do to faint here, she told herself, but all she suddenly wanted to do was keel over in a dead faint. 

In her hazy fog of anger and fear, she saw that many Slytherins had gone as white as she must have gone; some even seemed close to shrieking with rightly felt rage. Just because they were Slytherins, everyone automatically connected them with You-Know-Who. 

But of course 'they' wouldn't notice!

Draco Malfoy drew himself up. He wasn't the leader of the first year Slytherins for nothing. His face was pale, but it had always been that way, so Pansy knew those bastards wouldn't even perceive his distress. 

"Weasley, if we were with You-Know-Who, we wouldn't stand around to be insulted by the likes of you."

There was a growl from most of the Gryffindors assembled and Pansy suddenly had the ludicrous image of all the first years rolling on the floor and knocking each other senseless. And by the looks of it, she doubted that was too far-off from reality. Tensing, she added in her own words. "Because you lot are made up of trash after all!"

This time Ron really did explode. He screamed out, "You should all just die and go to hell!"

"I do not think that was wise, Mr. Weasley."

The cold, icy voice seemed to cut through them all. The group of students turned as one toward the tall, imposing, shadow-catching figure of Severus Snape. Ron went a nasty shade of green before seeming to shrink into the frightened ball of a quivering child. 

Snape gazed at the mixed group of three houses with smoldering and hooded eyes before turning back to his Slytherins. His lips twitched slightly, as if in exertion to keep from snarling. "Still the same. Still the same prejudice and hate." His murmured words were so faint that only Pansy and a few others heard it… and form the look on Harry's face, she guessed that he had heard the interesting choice of words too. 

"Professor Snape!" The chorus of relieved Slytherin voices echoed as one and Pansy felt a wave of reprieve wash over her, leaving her legs unsteady. He would be there for them. He would protect them. He would stay biased toward them. Snape was a _Slytherin_ after all. 

"What did you mean by that?"

The Gryffindors were silent, glancing at each other uneasily. The silky edge in Snape's voice was the stuff of nightmares. And the last time they had heard it, Harry had ended up with several detentions…

"Er… I… um…"

"Nevertheless, no matter the reason, you threatened fellow students. For that, I'll remember to take off fifty points for next year. Do be wise and use some of your dubious brain cells next time." With those sharp words, Snape motioned and the group of Slytherin first years gladly followed him back to the dorms. 

"Did you see that look on Weasel's face?"

"He deserved it, the bloody git."

"I can't believe he thought we were dumb!"

"Insulting Vince and Greg that way! Jerks!"

"Silence."

And of course, they all quieted down. Snape was glaring at them, a glint of heavy anger in his black eyes. The silence turned heavy and it _burned_. Pansy felt herself shrivel up at the rare display of annoyance from their favorite professor. 

"But professor…"

"Not another word Draco." Snape snapped.

"But!"

"Sylvie! Did I not say silence?" He turned on her with the full force of his eyes and she cowered immediately. Snape snorted and ignored her thereafter. Leda slipped to her side and tried to comfort the inconsolable girl. Sylvie was known throughout the first years to have a little crush on the professor and now he was there, yelling at her!

"I do not care what they might have said to you. You are Slytherins. You take it and you swallow it." His voice had dropped to a deadly whisper. But they heard and understood better than if he had screamed. 

"Slytherins will _never_ be the ones pitied. Slytherins are and always will be the bane of Hogwarts. But the Slytherins will always stay here. No matter _how_ bad it gets. Therefore, you _must_ endure it!" His voice was passionate with age-old experience. Pansy pressed her lips together in an attempt to prevent a strangled protest from escaping her lips. 

"Professor… they're still young. They'll learn soon enough." The group of first years looked up to see several Slytherin sixth and fifth years, their eyes cool and calm. Moving through the crowd, they clasped emotionless but still comforting hands on various shoulders.

Marcus Flint nodded, his eyes twisting. "No matter what, we'll always be the enemy. Nothing's going to change. It's no big deal anymore." With that, he clapped his hands together and the spell of melancholy was broken. The older students moved silently back toward their rooms and the first years trumped back to theirs. 

"Slytherins."

The older Slytherins continued on, not even looking back, instinctively knowing through years with Snape that they weren't the ones he called for.  

Draco and Pansy stared at the professor who seemed to age in a matter of minutes. 

"No matter what other people tell you, there will never be any doubt about why you're here. You are worth everything. You are as much a part of this school as anyone. Ignore them. Ignore their insults. You're Slytherins." His shadowy eyes were intense and black with conviction. 

Draco led the nod and Snape acknowledged the agreement. Sweeping out of the common room, his words had left a tangible presence in the room. 

"Let's go and pack. We'll be leaving soon." Draco's short words spurred them all into a flurry of movement. 

As they entered the room, Pansy mumbled a few words and all her belongings flew into her case neatly. Millicent did the same, but Sylvie and Leda chose to pack it the old-fashioned way; by hand. 

They each lay on their beds, left to their own thoughts, contemplating with a sudden level of maturity and startling clarity that what Snape and the older students had said was true. Too true. Fighting with Gryffindors was good and all, but… in the end, it was their choice. They couldn't blame anyone else. 

And until the announcement that the carriages were ready to bring them back to the Hogwarts Express, they stayed that way. 

~*~ FINIS ~*~

Notes: 

The first few quotes of Dumbledore are directly taken from the book.

Pansy Parkinson is a character of Slytherin House rarely written about. On the occasion she is, she's usually labeled as the pug-faced, ill-natured, silly slut of Slytherin who has nothing better to do than chase Draco and block him from one of three true loves: Harry, Hermione, or Ginny. She's also known as the girl who shrieks insults, the girl who sleeps around, the girl who wreaks havoc, the girl who betrays everyone in Hogwarts, the girl who eagerly joins the Death Eaters and so on. 

And here we thought Harry was the only one with the license on the inane usage of dictatorship-like roles. 

Well, bullocks to that, I say. 

If Draco Malfoy can be someone who will 'turn from evil' or 'be actually misunderstood' or 'he's just being tortured/abused/tormented by his father and he really does want to be good!', then so can any person from Slytherin. 

Granted, I will admit that there are plenty of children in Slytherin who are most *likely* to turn out to be Death Eaters, there are also plenty who *are not*. 

Personally, Slytherin house in my opinion has a lot more personality than Gryffindor. You can't automatically be 'good' in that house. You have to work for it and prove to yourself and others that you want to be part of the 'good team'. You have to make choices of whether to follow yourself or others. 

Anyhoo, this is the first fic in a series of vignettes for Pansy Parkinson. Until the fifth book actually emerges from the black hole it's seemingly fallen into, I'll probably content myself with using quotes from various other timeframes… I may even jump between books. One chapter in book 4, the next one in 1. It'll vary with my mood. And it won't end until the seventh book is actually out. 

Which means… long-term fic ahead! Not to worry. Each chapter/part/fic can be a stand-alone story. Therefore, there will be no need to die of curiosity of 'what happens in the next part'. 


	2. Not Quite Paradise

Title: "Not Quite Paradise"

Author: Demeter

Warnings: Slytherin-sympathetic. Angst, Dark, Pansy-sympathetic. Written in conjunction with the time of the second book, chapter fourteen, page 258 (Hardback US version). 

Disclaimer: All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are trademarks and property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. No money is being made and copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The original story and characters and relationships within the fic are copyright of Demeter.__

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin – why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause. 

Pansy shuddered.

The words that Lee Jordan had uttered in a heated moment of self-righteousness and anger had spread easily throughout the other houses, each time growing more convoluted and laden with twisted hate that curdled in the blood. 

By the time the 'quote' reached Slytherin, there was more than one person ready to quit Hogwarts and return home. None of them felt comfortable anymore within these supposedly safe walls. There were whispered rumors that all the Professors except for Snape were actually considering moving the Slytherins to another school.

Wrapping a heavy cloak around her, she moved toward the outer doors of Hogwarts, intent on escaping the narrowed glances and cold stares that had been directed at all the Slytherins ever since the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' business had started. 

She couldn't help but think with scorn that they were being more prejudiced than even most Slytherins about the muggle-born wizards. 

_At least we're reasonable in our hatred; It's not like we're seriously petitioning to get rid of all those blasted mudbloods. _

With a shake of her head, Pansy continued to walk listlessly toward the lake, searching for a quiet spot to think and meditate. She knew she would rather die than return in defeat to her home; they were so very adamant on family honor and that crap after all. 

Having made it into Slytherin had been the crowning glory of her eleven years; her mother had sent a stern note of congratulations while her father was gruffly supportive during Christmas Break. That had been her best year ever. She couldn't remember last when her parents had spoken to her so much.

Then sodding Gryffindor had to go and win the House Cup. Just like that. 

When she had gotten home, she received a lecture of immense proportions that ordered her to make sure that Slytherin won next year. 

She vividly remembered how angry everyone was afterwards. Pansy had to admit that Snape was biased in his own way… but Dumbledore even more so! Imagine! Giving the Gryffindors just enough points so that they would win over Slytherin!

The complete unfairness of the whole situation hadn't been lost on the first years. They had – in such innocence she reflected sourly – gone running to the older Slytherins only to find them shrugging and saying that they didn't have a 'Harry Potter' this year to even out the new ranks. That the Headmaster had always favored the Gryffindors; it was just that this year he had a more legitimate reason for awarding grossly inflated points. He had done it for years, but never could think of enough plausible reasons to actually award so many points at one time. 

Of course. 

How could they compete with Gryffindor house as long as Harry Potter was in the school? How did they have such foolish beliefs in thinking that any Headmaster, especially a Gryffindor Headmaster, could be neutral between the notorious feuding of the lion and the snake?

With a long and unhappy sigh, she settled into a bare spot beneath one of the trees huddled in a messy cluster by the lapping waters. From her vantage point she could just see the Quidditch field and the Hufflepuff team practicing. 

Following the image of the young seeker, she realized that he was the guy who many of the girls in Slytherin were gushing about. 

What was his name? Cedric something or other? Whatever it was, Pansy was pretty certain that he would be one idol or another by the time seventh year for him rolled around. 

Rolling her eyes, she absently observed a small group of – grimacing – Gryffindors making their way on the other side of the lake, still a distance away. Deciding to ignore them, she wearily remembered that it was about that time the then-first years had given up on gaining points. 

If it was useless to win the House Cup, why bother trying?

A good, if somewhat misguided theory she thought crossly. Not only had they lost the Quidditch game against Gryffindor, but the whole school was now also teaming up to force the lot of them out of Hogwarts for good.  

_As if._

As if they could, Pansy couldn't help but uneasily admit to. Hogwarts was a safe house, the only haven for many of them. Even Draco was reluctant to leave amid all his bluster and bravado that he would have preferred Durmstrang. 

That particular school was far too much like home to him for much comfort. 

Her own home had been years of cold parental care. She had been spoiled, that she could own up to; but she couldn't remember even seeing her parents all that much throughout her childhood. Instead, a seemingly endless parade of nannies and governesses had been her mainstay. 

If she was fortunate, they were kind, sweet and forgiving. If she weren't, then they would be as chilly as her parents. 

And *she* was one of the luckier ones. There had been far more horrifying home lives, ones that she preferred not to think about. But the stories still trickled out, with the occasional breakdown. 

Of course, they were Slytherins, she thought with more than a touch of pride. They faced what life gave them and made lemonade out of lemons. The real world wasn't going to coddle them once they got out of Hogwarts. They couldn't expect the same treatment toward Slytherins as toward Gryffindors. The ones who couldn't face that sort of reality were easily disposed of, sent back, or told to belt up. Most did the third; the alternative choices were incomprehensible. 

Bringing out some of the sweets she had brought from home, she popped a sugared caramel into her mouth. Allowing the soothing taste to run over her tongue, her thoughts turned back to what had brought her out in the first place. 

_"Why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?"_

"Gryffindors will be Gryffindors."

That had been the general consensus around the common room as the younger members glanced at each other apprehensively, worried that the 'best' house might actually get this wish, like they always do, granted. Saint Nick, she remembered, only visited 'good little boys and girls'. 

Nothing further had been done; the Slytherin prefects were mindful of being around whenever the younger ones were going to be in the vicinity of the other houses. Pansy couldn't help but avoid the library and general areas where it could be sure of seeing Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and especially Gryffindors. 

And then there was Lockheart… if he was a "real professor", she would eat her wand. He had garnered a lot of ogling from the other houses, but Slytherin generally treated him like joke. They had been raised all their life to be sure to not overexpose themselves to the limelight. 

A society photo here and there didn't hurt; blatant angling for the front page at every occasion was just disgusting, if not completely foolhardy. More than one wizard and witch had died because they were visible fodder for the Death Eaters. 

He also had an unashamed and ill-concealed affection – or was it greed? – for one, Harry Potter. His blue eyes gleamed with an unholy light whenever they chanced upon The Boy Who Lived. Great. One more reason for that kid to engorge his head. 

After nearly five years of contemplation, Pansy knew exactly what annoyed her so much about Harry Potter. It hadn't been for his defeat of Voldemort. In that, she didn't care much. Her parents had simply moved on to the next popular leader; she was no fool. That was politics. 

Nor was it the fact that he bested Draco in nearly whatever he did and managed to make fools of most Slytherins at every turn. She figured that in the end, they would be the ones with the strength, with the knowledge of how it felt to fall.

No, it had been none of those reasons that others might think she had. 

Simply, she felt it extremely unfair that he had done nothing, absolutely nothing at all, and yet, he got more recognition and sympathy than anyone else. Other kids had had parents who died or worse. She had seen plenty of Slytherins who were horribly abused; yet no kind action was performed toward them. 

He couldn't even remember the event very well. 

She could list off for twenty minutes all the children she knew who had seen their parents die before their eyes… and they _could_ remember. 

That was what annoyed her so much about Harry Potter. Otherwise, he really didn't figure much into her daily life. Sure, if he passed by, she would be more than willing to offer an insult in order to pull him out of his little cloud of 'I-am-invincible-hear-me-roar". But that was basically all. 

Her family didn't have as much of a stake in the death of Harry Potter as the Malfoys did. 

With a somewhat irritated sneer, she admitted that neither did Draco. All he wanted was to torment Potter; not kill him. The Gryffindors, and she gambled that many of the other houses too, didn't seem to realize this small but awfully important distinction.  

_"Why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?"_

Now, that was just grossly unfair. 

There were certainly some children in the House who were future Death Eaters, but not all of them intended to following their parent's footsteps and expectations. Not all of them were evil just by association. 

Plain logic didn't work like that. 

But she supposed the world thought it did. 

Gazing at the flat water, occasionally broken by a moving fish, she mused that if given a choice, most of the other Houses really would prefer there to be no Slytherins at all. But she also knew in a rare display of shrewdness, that Dumbledore-the-bore kept them around because they showed that once in a while, someone could be gray. Not just black or white. 

She didn't really know which shade she was yet. 

Black, because it was the easiest road to walk for her and her position in the world. 

White, because it had the most appeal to the childish ideas of what was right and wrong.

And gray, because, to be truthful, she didn't want to be either black or white. All she really desired was to be varying shades of gray, pale, deep, elegant, strong, protective, alone…

But she also knew that life was rarely so nice in handing her exactly what she wanted. Once again, another reason why Gryffindors annoyed her so much. They were basically furnished with their goodness on a silver platter, with everyone cooing after them that they would be the strongest Aurors, the most undefeatable wizards and witches. 

They didn't have to claw for their 'goodness' like Slytherins had to. They didn't have to face doses, day in and day out, of askance glances and whispered words that they were 'slimy, dark, dangerous, evil, disgusting, unreliable, future Death Eaters.' None of them had to fight like Slytherins had to for respect and unadulterated trust from other people when they left Hogwarts. 

And none, absolutely none, had to rebel against everything they believed in, to betray their families, to refute their upbringing, just so that they could be 'good'. And besides Snape, who could show them that way? Snape was ambiguous anyways. She still didn't know whether he was Death Eater or just plain nasty to all students outside of Slytherin house. 

It got to be so lonely being a Slytherin. Especially in times like this. 

With a frustrated sigh, she stood and brushed off her cloak. She had come out to gain some sort of peace about all the shenanigans going about… and she was still left with the vaguely aggravating sense of displacement. 

Deciding that the common room and it's roaring fire would do the trick, she ventured from her little haven and started walking back toward the main doors. 

"Well, look here. We have a _Slytherin_." The word was spat out as if the very inflection was foul. 

Stiffening, Pansy locked gazes with the small group of older Gryffindors who were obviously intent on blocking her path. They were glaring at her with varying degrees of animosity and she felt a trickle of apprehension – never fear! Slytherins never showed fear! – run down her spine. 

Without cracking an expression on her face, she moved deliberately to the right to bypass them. 

Smirking, they shifted so that the four of them were standing spread out in front of her, taunting her every escape route. Involuntarily, she stepped backwards, her eyes narrowing in dislike. They were playing those stupid games again, trying to intimidate her with their 'holy righteousness'. 

Allowing an expression of contempt to curl in her face, she lowered her eyes and smirked. Nothing infuriated them more than if it looked like a Slytherin was actually _laughing_ at them instead of being nervous.

It evidently worked, because the next moment, their expressions darkened toward rage and they moved forward threateningly. This time, Pansy stood her ground, barely twitching a muscle as they advanced on her. Pulling her wand out – snappy, willow, ten and half inches, two hairs of a young, female unicorn – she was ready to take any attack they set upon her. 

Her whole life, she had been trained in the Dark Arts. She had learnt curse after curse, poison after poison. But along with that, she had also discovered the opposites. Healing spells, antidotes. So many tended to forget that there was only a razor-thin line between killing and healing. 

"You're so dead Slytherin!"

Pansy steeled herself for the pain.  

But none came. 

With a speed she hadn't known existed within boys, two unfamiliar figures turned up right between her and the four Gryffindors. The adrenalin was still pumping in her blood and she could only faintly hear the mystery people shooing off her potential attackers. 

There was a short argument, that much she could discern. Apparently the four were getting angry and the two were even moreso. With a sharp expletive, the Gryffindors dispersed with vapid mutters.  

Now that the danger was gone, she felt limp, shaky, and irrevocably vulnerable. It wasn't everyday she was threatened by complete strangers, and only because of house rivalry and hate. The two turned toward her and the thanks she was about to utter died on her lips. 

It was Fred and George Weasley.

She wouldn't have been more surprised if it had been Harry Potter and Ron Weasley – alright, maybe a teeny-bit more – and there was an unusually serious expression on their faces. Clutching her cloak tighter around her, she edged backwards. 

They were far more notorious in the Slytherin house than Harry Potter; the pranks they had unleashed were the stuff of nightmares. Most of the Slytherins were wary of even crossing paths with the most famous Weasley's of the five currently at Hogwarts. Younger ones were warned away and the older ones spoke of them with distaste. 

There had been too many humiliating experiences…

Banishing those thoughts from her mind, she gazed at them guardedly.

"Well, a thanks would be perfectly alright at this point, y'know?" Fred – or was it George? – Asked, his voice sounding amused. 

Bristling, Pansy snapped, "Isn't that like a smarmy Gryffindor? To help a hapless Slytherin in trouble."

"You know George? I think she likes us!" Fred – obviously now – winked at his brother and the other winked back, turning to leer at Pansy. She flushed and stared back defensively, not intending to cow before such infidels. They were mudblood-lovers after all. 

Shrugging his shoulders, George motioned to Fred and they turned to walk back toward the castle. Pansy stood rooted to the spot and in an unusual moment of confusion, she called out before letting herself think. For once in her life, she wanted to know. 

"Why?"

As one, they turned to glance at her curiously. 

She repeated her question again. "Why? Why did you help me?"

George examined her slowly. Her blue eyes were clouded with frustration and bewilderment. She clearly was clueless and unaware of why they would 'stoop so low' to save a Slytherin… and he didn't like that haunted look in her eyes, the one that signaled a tiny part of her that was asking _why even bother?_

However, with great equanimity in his voice, Fred said, "Because we should have."

Shaking her head, she laughed bitterly. "Because you *should* have? Is that what all *Gryffindors* would have done?"

"Probably not, but that's how we work." George was easy in his certainty. 

"You shouldn't have… It's not how this _house competition_ works. You should hate us."

"It's just Quidditch and stuff. No big deal." 

"Yes it is! It's our house *rivalry*! It goes all the way back to Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor!"

'Yeah, but it's not like we have to continue it with every single member, right Fred?"

"Like he said; stuff like this ranks. It's also ancient history."

Pansy stared hard at them. At the moment, she didn't think she hated anyone more than those two Weasley's standing in front of her at the moment. Others didn't confuse her like them. Others didn't cause these horrible feelings of assailing doubt. 

"Pansy, isn't it?" Fred allowed a half-smile to play on his lips. 

She ignored him. With a harsh tone, she said, "It's always been that way. Gryffindors are the 'best' and Slytherins are the 'worst'. No amount of time will change that. If it had been Slytherins who had ganged up on a Gryffindor, they would have been severely reprimanded or at least beaten up by the other three houses." At this moment she knew she had started to rant, but she was beyond caring. 

Continuing, she hissed, "But no… since it was Gryffindors, even if they had hurt me, the most they would have gotten would be light slaps on the wrist."

Fred and George glanced at each other, startled. 

With a snort, she threw her hands up. With a caustic bite, she snipped, "But it's useless to explain that to Weasleys; if you all had enough money, maybe you could buy some brains." Her normal potshot at their less-than-fruitful existence seemed to do nothing to faze the twins. 

All they did was raise eyebrows and shrug. 

Wanting to swear and swear creatively, she stalked toward the castle, more than ever wanting to move into the safety of the Slytherin common room. All she could see before her was the hazy red that dotted her mind. 

"Hey, wait!"

She stopped, indicating that she was listening. But she didn't turn around. 

"You know, it doesn't have to be like this."

"Yeah. We could be friends… er… okay, maybe just allies, you know?"

There was a moment's pause, a silence that stretched long and thin. 

"Could we?" Instead of a scathing retort they had expected, her tone was merely tired, weary. Not bothering to hear their answer, she continued toward her dorm. Pansy felt fatigued. All she wanted was to slip into her bed unnoticed by any of the other Slytherins and let down the drapes. To close herself off into her own world. 

A hard hand on her upper arm effectively stopped her and she looked up into eyes snapping. Yanking back, she tried to flee the two without any other result then their holding on tighter. 

"Let me go you wankers!"

"If you only knew!"

Struggling earnestly now, Pansy strained toward the main hallways; so that there would be other Slytherins ready to help. She felt perilously close to tears… and she never, ever cried anymore. Finally, with a low grunt from her elbows in their guts, she put plenty of distance between the three of them. 

"We don't like you. We don't like any of you Slytherins. But we could. That's the key word! We *could*," was what George called out after her retreating figure.

Now she fled. 

Sprinting into her common room, ignoring the startled looks she got, Pansy scurried up to her dorm room and collapsed onto her bed. Drawing the curtains shut, she muttered several useful charms that one of her nannies had taught her. They wouldn't allow anyone enter her domain without her acknowledgement or at least notice. The Silence Charm meant that they wouldn't be able to hear her either. 

Lying on her back, Pansy wondered what the hell just happened. 

Certainly, they had saved her from a potentially painful encounter with older, bigger, and she hated to admit it, more experienced wizards. Grudging respect had to be paid. But that was all. Wasn't it? But then why would she feel such loathing? Apathy would certainly be more appropriate for the situation. Anger only meant that she wasn't as in control of her emotions as she thought she was. And that was inexcusable. 

Not to mention worrisome. 

Staring at the ceiling of her canopied bed, she absently realized that she was agonizing over something that was pretty much irrelevant. Nothing was going to change through this impromptu meeting between Slytherin and Gryffindor. There wasn't going to be some sort of sudden flash of warmth. 

Neither would anyone in her house concern himself or herself with that thought… and she was too sure that Gryffindor wouldn't care either. George and Fred Weasley was just a fluke. A small, unimportant aberration of what was right in Hogwarts society. 

Did she care?

Not really… but they were still stuck on her mind. Both of them. Pasted on like cheap lipstick that could never come off. 

With a curse, she buried her face into her pillow. Pansy hated insecure thoughts. Her future was pretty much mapped out. She would marry a distinguished family, one that was either a pureblood like Blaise Zabini's or one who was rich like Marcus Flint. Even better, one who was a pureblood AND rich like Draco Malfoy. That was what was expected of her. 

_But what did she want?_

Idly, she wondered for a fleeting moment, what it would be like to be married to either George or Fred Weasley. 

Only for a moment though. 

It was quickly followed by terrifyingly familiar horror and disgust. A Weasley? That was almost as bad as a mudblood. Even if they were purebloods, they were muggle-lovers and disgustingly tied with Gryffindor. She would rather die than even contemplate that line of thought further! 

With a nod of her head, she succeeded in driving all images of the Weasley twins from her mind. Venturing out of her safe cocoon, she straightened her appearance in the mirror and moved downstairs, ready to chat with either Draco of Millicent. Or work on her homework; she intended to do well, if not completely monopolizing the 'best student' spot like Hermione Granger. 

_"Why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?"_

The words that started this whole mess. 

The whole "Heir of Slytherin' business would be over by the end of the year, she figured. Harry – the bloody git – Potter would probably once again save the day and earn praising accolades. The house cup would once more go to Gryffindor. And she would do her best to insult them in a manner according of the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry. 

And Fred and George could go to hell for all she cared. 

~*~ FINIS ~*~

Once again; I'm a Slytherin-obsessed Harry Potter fan. Hence the strong attention to Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and all the Slytherins. Also with the colors green and silver. ^__^

I've noted that I do not believe that being in Slytherin automatically makes you evil. I'll still hold true to that notion even if Rowling insists on committing the entire Slytherin House to Voldemort in the end. But, I have a feeling she won't. After all, even though it's a children's book, she included Severus Snape, a character who is neither black nor white; only varying shades of gray. I like that.

Fred and George may tease the Slytherins, but they don't join in the cruel taunts other do. Justin from Hufflepuff was somewhat of a prat. I really, really, really disliked him for doing what he did to Harry during CoS. For heavens sake; you don't go around talking about the Chamber of Secrets like it was the daily gossip! *sigh* But I suppose fear does funny things to people. 

I'm sorting out my feelings currently about Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They'll get their limelight soon, but I think a little time will be needed before I feel I can sufficiently write about them. 

Thanks for all those who have contacted me about my grandfather. It helped me a great deal when I was very troubled and down. 

Reviewers:

Andrea: Thanks for the note on the squid-squib thing. I hadn't noticed that (apparently my beta reader didn't either) and it was awesome of you to notice! Thanks again! Yep, Slytherins are usually portrayed as… well, basically big jerks. And sometimes they are. But then so can Gryffindors too. ^__^

Incitata: *beams* From the Slytherin-Draco writing queen herself! My ego has inflated to twice its size now. ^__^ "Evil begets evil". True, very true. That's why at times I believe that Dumbledore is a bit evil in his own way. Slytherins deserve some sort of respect. But little to even marginal is given to them, except perhaps Draco. *sigh* But Pansy in your fic serves a purpose. The ones I read have her as a self-serving bitch simply because they forget that everyone's human.

Tess: Slytherins get a rather shoddy place in life; that's always been my perception of them. I especially dislike the automatic idea that if you're in Slytherin, you're evil. You're right. Evil can be all forms; just look at Peter Pettigrew. ^__^ Thanks for reviewing! It's nice to know others agree with me on Pansy!

Silent Shadow: Thank you! I hope you liked this part as much as the first!

Isis: Indeed; Pansy is a rarely hit upon character and that just annoyed me to the point of coming up with this series.

ThreeOranges: *cheers* To get someone to say that is one of the ultimate compliments I could get! Thanks for the total ego-booster! I agree. Slytherins are often viewed as an entity of evil. A vision of what evil is and that's just not true. They're kids! How are they supposed to know what ultimate evil is? It's prejudice like that toward them that makes my teeth grind. And the other three houses complain about how prejudiced Slytherin is against muggles. Well, takes one to know one. ^__^ Gregory and Vincent need limelight too. Pity that they're viewed as boulders all the time. And yes! Their 'goodness' is infinitely preferable to the Gryffindors. 

Nyarth Kyukon: *dances* Favorites? I'm totally beaming now. It's comments like this that make my day. Agreed on the Slytherin thing. Stigma is right. Remember how Harry was about to be sorted into Slytherin but was put into Gryffindor because he asked for it? I wonder how many other kids did that too? Ask for a different house. Such as Draco and Pansy because _they would be too worried to go into any other house_. As Hagrid once said, "Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin." Well, to Slytherins, Slytherin than Gryffindor. ^__^

Thanks to all reviewers!

Demeter


	3. Time Will Tell

Title: "Time Will Tell" Author: Demeter 

Warnings: Spoilers for the 1st and 2nd books. Slytherin-sympathetic. Pansy Parkinson POV

Disclaimer: All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are trademarks and property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The original story and characters and relationships within the fic are copyright of Demeter.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Pansy Parkinson had been spending the rest of the year ducking into empty classrooms in order to avoid the suddenly avid presence of the Weasley twins. They had a nasty knack of turning up whenever she was traveling down a hall or when she happened to be concentrating on something else… and once they had shown up, her concentration was utterly ruined. 

Not that she could blame it entirely on them. 

After all, she had pushed herself into a position of vulnerability by revealing her own feelings, her own emotions and doubts on a subject that was completely _subjective_. Her position in life demanded her hatred of Gryffindors and personally, Pansy didn't particularly feel like giving up that vicarious thrill. 

Hating Gryffindors. She could do that easily.

Avoiding them?

That was a different story. 

No matter where she went, she could count on either Fred or George popping up, smiling their little knowing grins, making her hands itch in wanting to pull her wand out and blast them to Bulgaria. Or somewhere further. Preferably one of the ancient prisons located in Asia she had last visited with her parents. 

And now, she had reached the end of the second year. Another year. Another time. 

Once again, Harry Potter had won the House Cup by oh-so-bravely defeating 'evil' and saving them all from eternal damnation. The Gryffindors had been smirking and sneering at every corner, commenting somewhat nastily that the Slytherins must be so *very* upset with the closing of the Chamber of Secrets. 

Snorting, she risked a glance up and down the mostly-empty corridor. She had decided to take a somewhat more private route back to the Hogwarts Express and Professor Snape had already given her and Millicent permission to travel by a separate buggy. She would have infinitely preferred for someone to come and 'get' her… but then, she couldn't have everything. 

Pansy sighed and took out a chocolate frog from her pocket. Savoring the sweet silk melting over her tongue, she suddenly recalled a muggle saying that "Chocolate was the panacea for all the world's diseases". A small smile broke her icy expression at the fleeting memories of certain muggles she had met. 

Of course, she rarely if ever told her parents about these impromptu get-togethers, but she figured that what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

She had all the wizarding child's curiosity about muggles. They were different, strange, almost fascinating if she was honest. There was certain flair to all their gestures and deeds. Pansy considered some of them even geniuses. Imagine! Not flying on a broomstick or traveling by apparition! Instead, using silver bullet-like 'macheens' that did the work for them. Muggles were marvelously inventive sometimes. 

Pansy couldn't imagine life without the magic. When she first snuck to Muggle London, she had had to come back right away. The desolate loss of the magic in the air had scared her more than she wanted to admit. 

Nothing had seemed right for the few moments she was there. The world passed on, but without the magic, she could feel herself stay frozen in that one moment. Afterwards, she went back again and steeled herself for the feeling. It hadn't been as rampant as the one before… but certainly, she had needed several hours of cowering in her room afterwards. Her nannies had told her horrific stories of some of the muggle mobs that had preceded her. Especially in the country. 

Though she didn't quite understand what her nannies had meant by that, she had done herself good by avoiding all country-life as much as possible. Luckily, her parents had hated the country as much as her and purchased estates only in the cities and towns. Well, except one. The one where they and 'friends' gathered to discuss whatever viable news was vital to their world of 'politics'. 

Sighing, she brushed back her blonde hair. Wistfully, she wondered whether she could ask to stay at Hogsmeade for the summer instead of returning to her chilly home. Her parents usually wouldn't disagree; she had done far stranger things, but they had hinted that there were numerous fetes and functions that summer she would have to attend. 

Bah. 

Family duties. 

She wanted…

_No use wanting what you shan't have._ Her silent admonishment of herself was much like all Slytherins. Unlike Gryffindors – who she could barely think of without a sneer now – Slytherins followed a most covert and intricate set of rules and laws. They may not have had the society-dictated type of morals… but they had their own. And they didn't expect _Gryffindors_ or _Ravenclaws_ or _Hufflepuffs_ to understand their world!

With a sudden jolt, she realized that she had started thinking about school in terms of 'them' and 'us'. Shivering, she wrapped her cloak tightly around her before venturing out to find Millicent. The June weather in Hogwarts was certainly nice, but due to the unending moisture, there was always a slight chill in the air. 

Breathing in deeply, she reflected with a slightly superior smirk that she had managed to avoid the Weasel Twins until the very end.  Seemed that the infamous pranksters weren't so good after all…

"Lucky we caught you," the rather cheerful voice piped up. 

Pansy shrieked and swung around, her purse whipping at the unfortunately familiar voice of FredorGeorge Weasley. A panicked feeling overwhelmed her. She didn't have the energy to deal with this. Didn't want to deal with these sort of troubling emotions. Hearing the not-so-satisfying crunch of leather against bone, she immediately ran off in the opposite direction, heading for the safety of the carriages. 

Not daring to look back, she literally leapt into hers, ignoring the startled look Millicent gave her, and barked an order to 'get going!' 

There was a short silence before Millicent hesitantly placed a soothing hand on Pansy's shoulder. The slighter Slytherin shuddered before shaking her head. 

"Pansy?"

"It's alright, Millicent. Just a tad jumpy."

"About going home?"

"That and something else."

"Wish to talk about it?"

Pansy dithered between telling her the truth and keeping this awful secret to herself. Imagine, Weasleys! Chasing after her! It was odd to the point of absurdity. 

"Well…"

"If you don't want to tell me, it's all right with me Pansy."

Pansy licked her lips and looked around, even though she knew perfectly that there was no one else. But if Hogwarts had taught her nothing, she had learned through experience that there were always ready ears looking for the next piece of gossip to pounce on. 

But then, Millicent didn't really need to know…

"It's nothing. Really. I'm just glad to go home."

"Really?"

"Yes."

The two exchanged smiles before lapsing into a comfortable silence. Pansy looked idly out the window, the scenery passing in a frenetic wave of endless greenery, trees, and of course, the shining lake. Millicent was reading; a favorite pastime. One of the reasons why she was so introverted. The girl infinitely preferred books to most people. 

That brought a small, involuntary smile to Pansy's face. 

The carriage jolted and shuddered all the way to the train and finally, at the end, they hopped off and went to sit with the rest of the Slytherin girls. They enjoyed a rare moment of camaderie as they compared their experiences for the year. Most were apprehensive about third year; some were certain that they wouldn't be returning. 

Sylvie among them. 

"What do you mean your parents are transferring you?"

Sylvie shook her head tiredly. "I said I wanted to stay at Hogwarts but they're insisting that I transfer to at least Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. Said it would be better for me."

Pansy pursed her lips and said, "Well, if your parents are saying that, then don't argue. It'll be for the best. We can still write to each other."

"I suppose. But I know it's Beauxbatons. I would die at Durmstrang. You all know that." Sylvie replied, her voice low and strained.

Leda nodded, her expression pensive. She was taking it oddly well. She reached up to tug on a stray curl and asked, "But if you go to Beauxbatons… then wouldn't that mean you would stay there during the summer too?"

Sylvie nodded. "Father and mother," she paused. Pansy noticed her odd expression and exchanged glances with Millicent. Sylvie swallowed. "They've bought a house down there and I'll be staying on the property during the summers."

There was a long moment of stunned silence. 

Leda leapt to her feet, her eyes wide in horror. "Why? That's not fair!"

Millicent nodded vigorously. "Your parents can't do that! You should be able to come back whenever you want!"

Pansy held her sneering words in. She knew exactly what would happen when… if, Sylvie even brought up the subject again. Shuddering, she waved a pale hand to silence the arguments. "Her parents have decided. It's not our place to argue."

Sylvie nodded, her eyes extremely tired. There were oddly-shaped lines at the corners of her eyes and for a moment, Pansy wondered if Sylvie really was only twelve years old. Leda swung a comforting, slim arm around Sylvie's waist and the two conferred quietly in a corner. 

Soon, conversations returned to normal. Pansy beckoned to Millicent to follow her and they entered the narrow hallway, needing a bit of privacy to talk. 

"If Sylvie's transferring… then…"

"My parents won't remove me from Hogwarts. I know that. And neither will yours." Pansy's voice was sharp with impatience. Millicent ignored the tone and barreled on.

"Pansy," was her only rebuke. "I know that. But those Gryffindors…"

The two eyed each other then sighed simultaneously. The thought of the lost Cup was still rather painful, shaming, _stupid_, but it was bearable. 

Of course… until she got home and got another lecture on the embarrassment of losing to _Harry fucking Potter_.

"Slytherins in the hall? Where are your friends?" 

Pansy swung around, her jaw going slack. She had assumed that the Weasley's would stick with Harry's compartment and then stay there, playing their little games and eating their little sweets. Apparently, she was wrong, because a grinning pair of Weasley twins lounged in the hall, their arms crossed on their chests, seemingly identical in their expressions. 

Millicent croaked and slid backwards, one plump hand tugging frantically on Pansy's upper, robe-clad arm. Swallowing, she allowed herself to shuffle backwards for a ways, before deeming it a relatively safe distance from the maniacal grins of those who were only talked about in hushed voices in Slytherin's common room.

Lifting her head, she nodded regally. "Weasley. Weasley. Is there something you need from us?"

Fred – damn, or was it George? – only grinned wider and stepped into her _personal_ space. She automatically shuffled backwards only to back straight into a wall. Dimly, she heard the terrified squeak of Millicent… but all she could see was those warm, brown eyes drilling themselves into her own blue ones. 

Her hand scrabbled unconsciously around, her defense mechanisms from years of practice finally coming back. He was within a few inches of her when she finally drew her wand up and placed the tip firmly on his chest. 

Weasley paused. 

She could only hiss, her usually haughty voice escaping her. "Stay away from me. I swear, give me a reason and I'll hurt you." Her strained tones brooked no argument and she knew that he understood that snakes attack most viciously when they feel they're cornered. 

And at the moment, all she wanted to do was weep. _Leave me alone, oh please, leave me alone._

There was a tense moment of silence before he finally moved away, his eyes darker now, shaded with a slight surliness and flashing with indignation. He nodded toward his twin and the two backed away, silently melding into the shadows.

Pansy slid to the ground, her breath coming in fast wheezes. Holding one hand against her wildly beating heart, she felt as if that single combination of flesh and ribs was the only thing keeping her heart from leaping out of her chest. Eyes wide and frightened, she turned toward Millicent who was staring at Pansy with an open mouth, with questioning eyes and a worried countenance. 

"Don't ask. Please. Millicent. Don't. Ask."

Millicent paused, a tongue darting out to lick her colorless lips. With a frustrated expression on her face, she nodded, her eyes growing shuttered. Pansy knew that _look_. With a strong sigh, she stood shakily and murmured, "I'll tell you someday. Please. Millicent, you have to trust me."

Trust.

That was a laugh.

When did Slytherins trust anyone but themselves? When were they given the chance, the opportunity to perhaps, know, see that Slytherins didn't have to follow one road while Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs another? 

Millicent and Pansy knew that they were thinking the exact same thing when their faces contorted. Tears filled Millicent's eyes and she suddenly threw her arms around Pansy and shuddered. "It's going to be alright Pans. Everything's going to be well in the end. I know it. I do."

Pansy nodded numbly and the two lapsed into a companionable silence before untwining themselves. 

In the distance, they could hear the faint whistle, announcing that they were arriving at Platform 9 and ¾. It would be an agonizing trip back to her house, with her parents lecturing, her mother wondering why she couldn't have done something more, with her father belittling Potter until the sun set into the Earth. And undoubtedly, he would sneer about Draco's ineffectual attempts at Quidditch.

She shuddered. 

Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be pleased either. 

Millicent gathered her things silently and the two left the train, barely glancing at Potter and his entourage as they slipped past them. 

~*~ FINIS: Part Three ~*~

Well, Pansy again. Next up! Third year! I've been waiting for this year for the longest time. This chapter was mostly a filler chapter since I needed to expand on something that will make sense later. 

And no, this fic will probably not turn into a Pansy/FredorGeorge fic. Well, at least not until I see what happens in the fifth book. 

Reviewers:

ThreeOranges: Yes, I was pertaining to THE incident with the Whomping Willow. I've always felt Severus was wronged on so many levels because of that little prank of Sirius'. Fred and George, I hope, will realize that not all pranks are funny. 'Pranks' are part of the reason that drove Severus to the Death Eaters. Glad you liked it!

Aelis: Thank you! That I will. It'll eventually go through Book 7; hopefully Rowling will write those books fast!

Tailchaser: Minor characters interest me usually more than the major ones… well, except for Severus. He's my absolute favorite hands down. Gryffindor biases annoy me. Hence the fic. 

Daredelvil: *laugh* I gather you feel the same way I do, right? Screw Gryffindors (that's how I feel sometimes). They have enough fans. Give the Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs their time in the limelight. If we all cheered Harry, the world would be monotonous.

Nyarth Kyukon: Rowling's a genius. She gave us a plethora of minor characters that we could play around with without resorting to Mary Sues. Yep, the 'clawing' line is one my favorites too. Slytherins deserve respect for wanting out. They deserve respect for even trying to get out. Being raised for eleven years under the idea that dark is right, well, it makes them even better then Gryffindors who everyone assumes automatically turn out 'good'. 

Bwaybaby79: Yes, I agree that she's just as biased right now as any Gryffindor. But she's still young. And bitter. ^__^ Don't worry! I intend to make her right in the end… Hoping with my fingers crossed that Rowling will give the Slytherins something!

Lilith: *beams* Powerful praise. I'm SO happy that you like it! I was worried that people who totally flame for using Pansy since she's not exactly beloved in the fandom… but, darn it, I like her! ^__^

Thanks to all reviewers!

Demeter


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